


The Beginning of a Downward Slide

by OneOverClover



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Gen, Klaus Backstory, The Hargreeves as Children, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:22:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27532966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneOverClover/pseuds/OneOverClover
Summary: What happened after Klaus broke his jaw? A short little fic about a moment in time between Klaus and Vanya when they were kids.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24





	The Beginning of a Downward Slide

February 9, 2002

Four’s accident has thrown the day’s activities into disarray, and dad is furious. Their brother’s jaw is broken, and Grace did not have the proper equipment on hand to wire it shut. For the first time in their lives, their father had to take one of them to an actual hospital. It would be bad enough if it had been a mission-related injury, but Four had been clomping around in a pair of their mother’s high heels and fell down the stairs. Seven saw it happen, and it frightened the wits out of her. He tumbled all the way down, hitting his head with a sickening crack. She’d run to fetch One, who picked their brother up in his arms, and rushed him off to their parents.

Hours later Four walks through the front door with his head tilted down to the floor. Their dad walks in immediately behind him with such an ill-tempered expression that all of the children know to steer clear of him for the day. Grace whisks Four into the sitting room where Seven has been practicing her music and has him lie down on the couch, “You took a pretty good bump to the head, young man. I want you to take it easy for the rest of the day.”

Their other siblings have gathered around to take stock of his damage. “Can we help him with anything?” Six asks.

“Mmmpppph,” is all Four can manage.

“He won’t be able to talk or eat solid foods for a few weeks,” Grace says.

Two throws his arms into the air in a celebratory gesture, “It’s like a va -vacation.”

“Don’t be rude!” Three chastises him.

“Why don’t you all just give him some space. I’m sure he’s having a rough day,” Grace stands and makes a shooing gesture toward the other Academy members, who start to file out of the room. No one takes notice that Seven is still there.

“Mmrrrmph.” Four makes another strained cry.

Grace strokes his hair, “Sorry darling, I can’t understand you.”

Getting a flash of an idea, Seven sets her violin down and grabs a notepad and pen from a desk drawer. Without a word, she offers them over to her brother. Four sits up a bit and takes them from her.

“Why Seven, what a great idea,” their mother says.

Four props up his knee to brace the notepad against while he writes. He has unexpectedly elegant looping handwriting.

_‘It hurts.’_

“I should say so,” says Grace. “Your father believes pain is an excellent motivator for improvement.” She removes something from her apron pocket. “But my number one parameter is to make sure you children are taken care of.”

Seven sees the glint of metal in her hand. A syringe.

“This will make you feel a bit strange, but the pain will subside,” she says taking Four’s arm and pulling his sleeve back. He winces as the large needle pierces his skin.

“There now,” Grace says once the injection is complete. “You rest up before mealtime. Dinner is sprouted quinoa, seared salmon, and asparagus tips. I’ll have to put yours into the blender.”

Four grimaces at the thought, and his mother rests a finger against the bridge of his nose, “And don’t forget, the next time you want to wear my shoes; heel toe, heel toe.”

Grace clacks off toward the kitchen leaving the two children alone. Seven cautiously approaches her brother who is staring off into a corner as he often does when there are specters around the rest of them are oblivious to. Four doesn’t frighten her the way Two sometimes can, but she never knows what to expect from him. He’s like a stranger she’s known her whole life. Really, they all are.

“Would you like me to play something for you?” she whispers.

He gives her a noncommittal shrug.

It’s good enough for Seven that he didn’t outright tell her no, so she picks up her violin and tucks it under her chin. Four’s eyes begin to glaze over as her bow slides across the strings. She’s halfway through a Chopin piece when a loud thump comes from upstairs followed by yelling. One and Two are arguing, and Two has thrown something. This has been a near daily occurrence for the past six months, but the noise still startles her enough to stop playing. It also jolts Four awake.

He sits up groggily swiveling his head looking around the room as if searching for something. “Mmmmphhhhrrrr.”

“It’s fine, they’re just fighting again.”

He shakes his head vigorously, “Rrrrrrmmmmmphh.”

Snatching up the notepad that has fallen to the floor, he scribbles furiously before thrusting the paper toward Seven.

Setting her instrument down she walks over to see what he’s written.

_‘They are all gone.’_


End file.
